Silence
by JessiLynn86
Summary: ONE SHOT Slightly AU now, but I wrote it a couple years ago, so... yeah. A chance encounter in the middle of the night leads to an affair uncomplicated by words or accusations. DG


**Disclaimer:** I don't own HP, J.K Rowling does. I just own my ideas, such as they are.

This is my first fanfic, so if you can't be gentle at least be constructive.

I know it's now considered AU, but I wrote this a couple years ago and finally decided to post. So please read and review, tell me what you think, and I'll be sure to reciprocate with any story you happen to have posted. Thanks, and I hope you enjoy.

**Silence**

Blackness crept up the deep stairway, devouring sight and sound before it. It swallowed the sigh of the young woman poised at the top, her hands clasped in front of her plucking uselessly at her worn black robes.

Filch would be prowling down below. The caretaker and his horrible cat would love to catch her where she shouldn't be. Worse, Snape, the great git of a motion's master swooped around the castle in the middle of the night like a bat, and the gloomy tunnels underneath Hogwarts were his domain.

Ginny's heart collapsed to her toes and she clamped down on the nerves rising in her chest. She was a Gryffindor. Where was her courage? She rejected the fleeting thought that she had left it back in the common room with her schoolbooks and cast about herself for some assurance. There was none to be discerned from the murky shadows.

Somewhere far behind her, a clock struck through the hours, finally reaching twelve. She could not stay stooped here in the obscurity of the bleak darkness forever. Ginny steeled her heart. She started down the cold stairs.

Slow echoes tumbled along after her, easily keeping pace with her furtive steps. The sputtering torches in the corridor ahead cast a dim light on her intended path, and she again wondered at her decision. She glanced back, through the gloom to the just vacated passageway above. And then turned her gaze forward again. There was no going back now.

She came to an intersection of hallways. Her brown eyes looked to one dim path, then the other, and she stood, undecided, knowing she must pick a way, but fearful she would become lost in this maze of departed light.

Her decision was made for her abruptly by a series of crashes that rang out from behind. Gleeful laughter and shouted curses, muffled by the old stones, followed shortly. The noises drew closer. Ginny did not waste time now. Barely looking ahead to see which may she turned, she ran for it.

She heard her feet slamming against the floor, as loud as a lumbering dragon. When she finally paused, hiding behind a musty statue, and sliding to the damp floor to gulp air into her much-abused lungs, she realized a new problem.

She was lost. Her mad dash had taken her to a part of the castle she was completely unfamiliar with. Ginny sagged against the harsh wall, determined not to cry, but doubting herself more than ever. Why had she come down here?

Staring into the gloom, she considered her options. She did not dare risk lighting her wand. That would make her too easy to find if someone happened to be looking. It was bad enough to be lost; she didn't want a detention on top of it. Her spirits descended further. She would never find her destination now. She would be lucky if she ever found her way back to daylight.

Ginny heaved herself up from the bitter floor. Leaving the stooped statue, she felt her way along the wall, hands scraping on the rough stone. She continued walking, knowing this hall would eventually lead her somewhere. It had to, didn't it?

She paused for a moment outside a dark alcove, not sure what it was. Any lights that had been there had coughed and died out ages ago. She reached into the recess with her hand, but felt nothing. Turing away, resigned to searching farther down the passage, she stiffened suddenly when a pale hand shot out and clutched her arm.

Biting back a scream, Ginny fell backwards trying to tear her arm away from the cold grasp. She landed on the hard floor, biting her lips to keep a cry from escaping.

When she looked up at the hand that reached out from the darkness too help her up, she was suddenly glad for the darkness. It hid her bright cheeks, and spared her the amusement she knew was glinting in those eyes. It was obvious now how nervous she was, sneaking around down here in the shadows. She was glad he had not seen her earlier and couldn't know she had only found this place by chance. Her embarrassment was already acute enough.

She allowed herself to be pulled into the murkiness of the alcove and discovered it was much more than it appeared. After a few steps forward Ginny realized she was in a narrow corridor. A wand tip washed light onto the bare stone, her arm was released in favor of her hand, and cool fingers twined with hers as she was again pulled along.

There was no light here, except for the burning glow of the wand, but Ginny was led unerringly through the bleak darkness. They continued down that passageway for what might have been forever or perhaps just a few minutes. Ginny could see their pale, clasped hands in the dim light and wandered that hers fit so well with this other.

They finally slowed as they came upon a solitary door. Though Ginny had not been paying much attention to their surroundings, now she glanced quickly about her. The corridor continued on past them for what seemed liked a long way with no light to be seen at the end. She turned her gaze to the door in front of her. It was thick and looked to be very old, but then so did most things in this castle. The wand tip was extinguished, and the lightlessness washed over them again as the door creaked open. Ginny was drawn through.

Abruptly, the door snapped shut, and Ginny found herself with her back pressed against it. Those cool fingers were now cupping either side of her face and she looked up into gray eyes she had once found so cold. They were different now, warmer, and Ginny felt her knees weaken. She smiled into those eyes and wrapped her arms around his neck, tilting her face to his. His lips caressed hers gently, taking no more than she offered, asking only that she respond.

She wound her fingers into his fine blonde hair, putting it in disarray. She had never seen it not perfectly combed into place, and now reveled in messing it up. All her doubts flew from her mind as their lips touched again and again.

His hands, now on her waist, no longer cool, pulling her closer, as close as she could get to him, but not close enough. Ginny was intoxicated with his kisses; she wished they could stay here this way forever. In his arms she felt perfect, complete.

But her brain was starting to catch up with current events. It screamed at her in the combined voices of her mother and her older brother. What did she think she was doing? Didn't she know who this boy was? What he was?

Yes, she knew. Of course she knew. And she didn't care. She didn't know if there was more to him than what everyone saw, though Ginny thought there was more, hoped there was. She just wanted to be here with him, like this, the consequences of their actions be damned.

But he she could tell he was thinking too now and pulling away from her. Did he harbor the same doubts she did? Did his stomach twist in nervousness at the thought of what this might mean?

Well, she wouldn't let him leave her. Wrapping her arms all the more tightly around his neck, she refused to release him. He struggled for a moment, but finally desisted, sliding down to sit on the floor, Ginny still in his arms. Neither spoke, but their unuttered words hung heavily between them.

Ginny shut her eyes, leaned her head against his chest. She listened to the steady beat of his heart, and thought about what had brought them here.

Up until two days ago, she had hated him. She had known that he was the most foul, evil person this side of Voldemort. She had loathed him for what he did to Ron and all the trouble he put Harry through. She would have gladly seen him dead and rotting.

But two nights before she had been walking back to her common room from the library. She'd lost track of the time up there, trying to finish her transfiguration homework. She knew Filch would probably catch her, but she couldn't spend the night in the library, so she had snuck as swiftly through the halls as she dared.

She tried to walk quietly, but carrying all her books made it difficult. Turning a corner she glanced up the passageway, keeping an eye out for the hated Mrs. Norris. Which was why she was not looking down at the floor.

The result was that she tripped over the figure sitting slouched down against the wall. She didn't recognize him at first. The corridor was dark and she was sprawled with half her body on top of his, tangled in her long school robes.

Ginny quickly scrambled up and on to her knees. She looked around her and swore under her breath. Her books were now scattered halfway down the hall and the racket they had made would probably bring half the school running. Ginny turned her attention to the person she had tripped over, ready to turn loose her temper upon them.

She gasped when she saw who it was. Now she would be in trouble for sure. It was just her luck. She would have to trip over, in the middle of the night, the most volatile prefect at Hogwarts. She hurriedly backed up a few feet, ready to try and run for it or hex him if she had to. She reached for her wand but then slowly drew her hand back again.

She looked at the boy in front of her more closely. He was not looking at her. His body had straightened up again after she fell on him, but now his head was bowed, his gray eyes and arrogant face covered by his slim, pale hands. He seemed the perfect picture of abject despair. And he wasn't taking points from her.

She should accept this gift for what it was and hightail it back to the safety of her common room.

She would have done just that, except… Except she couldn't bear to see anyone look like that, even the supreme git, Draco Malfoy. She didn't ask him what was wrong; she just sat down next to him on the cold stones. He raised his head to look at her, but didn't seem surprised to see her sitting there. He had not been crying, but whatever he was feeling had left its mark on his face.

Ginny felt the need to comfort him, but she knew words would break the tenuous connection between them. She reached a hand out to him, though, and was amazed when she felt him grasp it. They sat that way for what Ginny thought was quite some time. All thoughts of rushing back to her common room had fled her mind. She was intrigued by this version of Malfoy that she had never seen before.

Ginny noticed he had a bit of parchment crumpled in his other hand. She was curious what it was. She didn't think he'd let her have a look at it, but that didn't stop her imagination from casting off into wild designs. She was staring at it so hard she didn't notice that he was staring at her until she felt his hand stir in hers.

Ginny looked up and met his eyes. She flushed. The letter, or whatever it was, was his business. She had no right to pry, even if her curiosity was going to drive her mad. The hand holding the parchment unclenched and Malfoy held the crumpled thing out to her.

Ginny didn't know why, but she felt he was bestowing a great honor on her by letting her see it. She reached out with her right hand; the left still entwined with his, and took the parchment. It was a letter as she had speculated. It wasn't from his father, as she would have thought, though. It was from some person named Giselle. A girl.

A girl who described how her parents were forcing her to join the ranks of Voldemort with them as a Death Eater. She begged Draco for advice. How could she escape this fate? Ginny could see tear stains on the page and some of the writing was blotchy and hard to read.

Ginny looked back at Malfoy. Her eyes questioned him, but he turned away. There was nothing he could say anyway. Ginny wanted to ask who the girl was, but that wasn't important. This particular girl's fate was not what upset Malfoy. Ginny sensed that. Maybe it was the question of his own future.

Ginny had never troubled herself over whether Draco Malfoy wanted to follow Voldemort and be just like his father. She had looked at him and his behavior and judged him by what she saw on the surface. Even though he had not spoken, or denied what everyone knew he was, Ginny looked at him and finally saw more than that image. She saw him as a human being and as a scared young boy forced down a path he might not have chosen.

She didn't think he'd like her new opinion of him, but she also knew she'd never tell him. Words would break the bond that had stirred between them. Ginny handed the letter back and in the darkness of that deserted passage where they had shared something between them, she leaned her cheek against his for a moment. His breath halted then took up again. His hand came up to rest on the back of her head and when she pulled her cheek away he kissed her. It was not the kind of kiss she expected. It was not lustful. It was a kiss of thanks, she thought.

After he released her, he picked him self up off the floor, and helped her find her books. He handed her the last one and kissed her again, briefly. They walked their separate ways down the corridor and neither looked back. He knew she would keep his secret and she knew, somehow, they would meet again.

Ginny was not quite sure how they had gotten to this point. Still no words had been spoken between them since before that night. There were none that would make any difference. They both knew the meaning of their actions. Talking wouldn't change things.

Except it might. The bond they shared was one based on one dark night in a deserted hallway, and a few shared fears and emotions. If voices entered into it the bond might break under words such as Weasel, Death Eater and blood traitor. It might not hold with the strain of their pasts brought into this haven of the present.

Ginny knew all of this and thought it but as she drifted towards sleep in his arms and felt his eyes watching her she knew that whatever the cost these moments were worth it.

Ginny saw him coming several yards ahead. A sure arrogant boy surrounded by his devotees. The ever-present cow, Parkinson, clung to him. Ginny swiftly stamped out her jealousy before it showed on her face. She was hurrying to transfiguration with several of her friends. As the two groups came closer to each other several boys and girls exchanged insults, but Ginny and Draco remained silent. He smirked at her and looked down his arrogant nose and she glared at him so hard she almost missed the wink that fluttered over his eye. They passed each other by, and no words were spoken between them.


End file.
